Stand By Me
by Red Cloud Phoenix
Summary: Commodus makes an attempt to peacefully break off his relationship with Augusta on his father's orders. How can things go so wrong? Please read and review!
1. The Man the Gods Envied

A Thousand Laughs and Tears

Commodus was not always bitter. In fact, he used to be one of the kindest souls that Rome ever knew. He loved deeply once, laughed as if there was no worry in all the world. His tongue was sweet and tender, not cold and harsh. This is the story of Commodus and Augusta, and their doomed love that would change him forever.

Chapter One

"Tell me, dear Augusta, if it has been longer than a thousand years since we met last."

It was half a question and half a statement, told by a voice of water and sand. Commodus smirked jokingly at his own words. It was for his wordplay that he was admired, but he saved some of his most clever words for Augusta.

"Has it truly been longer? To me it feels like a millennium. When you left me yesterday I could have sworn I grew older. I spent all that time outside, in the sun, and when the sun sank over the horizon, I basked in the equally sweltering heat of the moon."

When Augusta's lips stretched into a smile, Commodus kept going.

"And look at me now, browned and burnt! I really must have spent a millennium waiting for thee; that is longer than an era of rulings in the Empire! Oh, Augusta, it has been an eternity since I could look upon thy face."

Augusta laughed warmly. "Yes, my lord, it has for me as well, your Augusta." She secured his face in between her hands. His cheeks were hot from the sun, but she knew Commodus produced a heat that was all his own.

Commodus lapped her hands with his tongue.

"Never call me that," he whispered.

He continued to place kisses on her hands.

"You know my name."

And, moving her fingers on top of his lips, he mouthed it for her to feel.

_Commodus. _

"Commodus," she corrected herself, and she felt a surge of emotion. "But you are the heir to a great ruler, Marcus Aurelius."

"Yes, my girl, but alas, the love I have for him does not replace- and can never replace- the one I have for you."

He pulled her head on his broad shoulders. He closed his eyes, and, mustering all the love he had, asked:

"Do you love me?"

Augusta, lacking any doubt, answered:

"I love you, with more love than my heart can hold."

At that, Commodus swayed in happiness.

"Do you deny me, Commodus?"

The prince shook his head. "No, on the contrary, I know that you speak the truth." His voice was muffled, as he had buried himself in her robes.

Clasping his arms around her waist, he kneeled in front of his lover. He pressed the side of his head onto her chest; like a wounded child he begged for comfort, for relief. "Is something the matter?" said Augusta, weaving Commodus' thick black curls through her fingers.

"No."

He grinned up at her. "I was only wondering…if ever my father loved me."

There was a silence.

"And you…I think you have shown me more love than my own father. What is a prince, if he desires the simplicity over royalty? His name over his title?"

"Your father does love you, I am sure of it. And you are a prince who loves a woman, that's all."

"A very regal woman at that," Commodus added.

He laughed. It was a deep rumble that resounded from his throat. A laugh that washed away all pain, all grief, and filled the cracks of sadness with joy. A laugh so pure, so innocent, that all plagues were forgotten. And the Gods envied him, for this handsome mortal had been born with the ability to make them swoon.


	2. I am not Superficial

Commodus was not always bitter. In fact, he used to be one of the kindest souls that Rome ever knew. He loved deeply once, laughed as if there was no worry in all the world. His tongue was sweet and tender, not cold and harsh. This is the story of Commodus and Augusta, and their doomed love that would change him forever.

Chapter Two

Commodus walked quickly within the halls of the palace. It was suppertime, and his father, sister, and mother would be waiting. Young Commodus was _always_ late to dinner, but this time he had arrived later at a time that was beyond acceptable. He shuddered to even think of how long his father would scold him. But Marcus Aurelius never scolded, never went above a whisper. Yet the usual graveness of his tone at Commodus' actions told him otherwise, that he was disappointed in him, that Commodus shamed him. He tried to please his father, he really did, but even with good intentions, he never succeeded.

_I am a fool yet again. Why must you be a disgrace, Commodus? Why can't you be as father raised you, to be selfless? _

Commodus held his head low as he dragged his feet towards the dining room. Ready to be shamed once more and feel worthless, as he often did in front of such a man as Rome's Caesar. Commodus found it hard to believe that they shared blood; he, a limp, aggressive character, the son of a graceful and strong ruler? The lineage did not seem sensible.

Commodus held his two bare feet together on the cool ceramic tiles. Clearing his throat, he said, "Father?"

Commodus dared not look upon the Caesar's face, which he knew was outlined with numerous wrinkles to show for his stress.

Calmly: "Where were you, Commodus?"

Commodus searched for the anger that was surely hidden underneath.

"Forgive me, Father, I have returned too late." Commodus reddened. In between chews, Lady Cornelia, his mother, sternly said, "Answer your father's question, Commodus."

"Hush, Cornelia, no need to snap at him." Marcus tried to cut her off with a flick of his hand, but his wife did not listen.

"He must learn to answer questions, Marcus."

The Caesar repeated, but as calmly as ever, "Where were you, Commodus?"

Commodus hesitated. "I…was…in the fields."

This was not a satisfying answer. "Doing what, Commodus? Have you finished your lessons as of yet?"

"Not quite, father." Commodus was losing confidence. His statement wavered in the dining room as his entire family watched him, each with a different air.

Silence. The last time Commodus took a visit to the fields, he had gotten in a lot of trouble. The last time he visited the fields…

Marcus Aurelius discovered his son's only weakness.

Marcus' tone rose. "What did I tell you about visiting the peasants?"

His mother interrupted once more. "You've been seeing that girl again, I know it!" Marcus responded by slamming his fist onto the table.

"Cornelia! I would like to handle this myself." Seeing that all of his supper was finished, he beckoned to Commodus. "I would like to speak to you for a moment." Commodus unwillingly followed; he had no other choice.

"You know why you upset your mother and me." Commodus did not want to answer. Yes, he knew the reasons very well, but it was no reason that Commodus agreed with.

"No, father, I do not." Said Commodus.

He sighed. "I told you last time that I do not advise you to meet other women. It does no good to your future."

"And what future do I have? Are you saying that you won't allow Rome to have a peasant's daughter as an Empress?" Commodus tried his best to control his temper.

"I know that feelings may develop between two different classes. And yes, Rome would be devastated to see a peasant girl rule over them. But more important than that, what of your arranged bride? She has been waiting her whole life to wed you. By reserving your feelings for another, you will not only break a marriage pact I made with her father at the time of your birth, you will be going against our ancient culture."

"You…_what?"_ Commodus narrowed his eyes in disbelief. "At the time of my _birth? _I thought I would at least get a chance to choose my suitors when I came of age."

"You are mistaken, Commodus. You are eighteen in October, but I have arranged no suitors for you. Your bride was decided years ago. I would like you to stop seeing her…immediately. It will only make you grow more attached."

"But I love Augusta. I have no intention of leaving her, or hurting her, for that matter." Commodus went on resolutely.

"Ah, yes. I should have known. You have fallen too deeply. It is time to rescue you before it is too late."

"I choose to marry Augusta."

"I will hear no more of it," said Marcus. "I will let you say goodbye to her, and after that you are forbidden. I believe I am finished talking about this matter. Good night, Commodus."

Commodus, taking that as dismissal, turned sadly to leave.

"Your attitude does not change my mind," Commodus said rather starkly, and ran to his room.

"Commodus, Commodus, Commodus, when will you ever learn," his sister commented as he walked past. "Princes aren't supposed to fall in love with peasants." Commodus hung his head low.

"I'm sorry I disappointed you, sister. I was weak. I will never see her again."

"Now, Commodus, don't hide your feelings. You love her, don't you?" She gave her brother a hug.

"I do, sister. I knew you would understand." Commodus looked on with hope. "Do you support me on this?"

"I do and I do not. I wish for my brother to be happy, but being a prince does not always bring happiness, does it? Sometimes, you are obliged to sacrifice. Say goodbye to her, Commodus. It will only bring problematic issues in the future with your wife."

Commodus couldn't bear it.

Impatiently: "None of you understand! All you care for is wealth- you have never once looked into one's mind. But I am not superficial like the rest of you. I want to be tolerant and wholesome and not judge a person on her status! You asked me what I saw in Augusta, father. I see myself spending the rest of my life with her! _I choose to spend my life with her!" _He shouted, making sure the entire household heard him. His burst of anger left his sister speechless.

The prince closed his bedroom door with a bang. He talked half to himself. "Oh, Augusta. Why won't they accept you?" He took off the small medallion around his neck, a gift from Augusta. He cradled the jewelry as if it were her, kissing it continuously pretending it was his lover's cheeks. He whined in fear of never seeing her again, and that fear is what accompanied him in sleep.


	3. Goddess

Commodus was not always bitter. In fact, he used to be one of the kindest souls that Rome ever knew. He loved deeply once, laughed as if there was no worry in all the world. His tongue was sweet and tender, not cold and harsh. This is the story of Commodus and Augusta, and their doomed love that would change him forever.

Chapter Three

"You walk slower than a tortoise, Commodus!" Augusta laughed as she sped on ahead of him. Commodus forced on a small smile as he received her, holding onto her abdomen so he wouldn't drop her. He whirled her around.

"How is my nymph?" he murmured, smoothing her ruffled hair. "Sad, angry, or happy? Is there anything I can do for you?"

"I'm fine, Commodus." He leaned back on a sycamore tree, Augusta lying on top of his body. He further pressed her against his heart, right near his neck so that his pulse vibrated against her skin. "That's good to hear. Do you have everything you need?" He tried very hard to smile, but his lips quivered as he did so and left Augusta puzzled.

"I'm healthy and I have you." Her smile faded. She attempted to read him, his cryptic, crooked pout. She was fixed on him entirely, but she did not know how to scrutinize the letters that made up his face.

"How can you ask me that?" She questioned him only to receive a stroke on the chin in response, followed by an idle grin. A Commodus grin. She brightened up to him as the sun peaks out of the clouds after a rainstorm. _He wants to ask me if I love him, _she thought. _We played this game many times before._

"Commodus, can we not play this game at this moment?" Augusta returned to her curled position on his torso. "Please." He said nothing. He only continued to gaze at her.

"Now, don't be angry. It's been a long time since I saw you, and I only want to have you here, next to me."

He spoke. "I'm not playing games, Augusta. How much do you love me?"

With a sigh, she replied, "More than the whole world."

"More than the…"

Augusta chimed, "Mediterranean Sea."

Commodus was beaming. "Augusta…" he began. The two of them lay side by side beside the barley field on their stomachs.

"If you say so, I think the time is right for us to wed." His request made Augusta's eyes widen.

"Right now? Here?"

"I don't see why not. We love each other, don't we? I think we should seal our love."

Augusta sounded hesitant. "But how? I have never met your parents, in which case we have _no_ chance to hold a ceremony. My parents are too poor to pay for a formal wedding."

Commodus pouted in displeasure. "I do not care for formality."

He pulled up Augusta and smirked. "I have a gift for you, but you will have to close your eyes if you want me to show it to you at all." Laughing, Augusta obliged.

"No peeking."

Commodus rapidly pulled out a ring from his pocket.

"Open them. Behold your offering."

Augusta was never selfish. She did not wish for jewels or any other riches. She had never owned something more valuable than her gold medallion, for that matter. And that jewel she had given to Commodus as a token of her absolute devotion. She owned nothing.

She wondered what trinket Commodus possibly could have gotten especially for her. And she listened, opened her eyes.

"Oh…" She gasped.

In his hands, Commodus held out a luminous, round figure. It was an exquisite ring. It had to be priceless. She did not think to touch it until she received her lover's urging eye. She looked on in astonishment; the color was almost blinding. She liked to think of it as Commodus' heart, burning a crimson red. Full of passion. Burning with intensity.

"Do you like it?"

"It's beautiful," answered Augusta. Commodus placed the ring on her finger. It fit perfectly. Commodus gave her a shy grin.

"Marry me."

It took a moment for the question to sink in. It was as if all of Augusta's fantasies were coming true, her dreams fulfilled. Even if she could say no, she wouldn't.

"Of course." She nodded, her tone affected by a sudden outburst of tears that were forming in her eyes.

"Yes?" Commodus could hide his joy no longer. The woman he loved was accepting his proposal, accepting to be bound to him and be his. It was something he felt was a gift from heaven, something he had done nothing to earn.

"We shall recite our vows, then." Commodus boyishly scratched his head for ideas. Augusta blushed. "I, Commodus, take you, Augusta, to be my wife and companion, my best friend and partner, whom I will love until I die and no other, if any force of nature shall separate us or drive us apart." He was quite impressed with himself.

"I, Augusta, take you, Commodus, to be my husband and best friend, whom I love and cherish with all of my heart and will continue to love and hold dearly until the day I die."

They laughed out of embarrassment to each other, these two young lovebirds; never had they dictated any passage so serious to each other.

"Come, Augusta, let us go on our honeymoon." Commodus was smiling playfully. He scooped her up and walked the trails in the fields of barley. "Where do you want to go?"

"Rome," she said.

"Rome it is. Wherever you go, I'll go and always follow you." Commodus picked up his step to the delight of his woman. "It is a beautiful city, almost as beautiful as you."

"Is it filled with tall buildings?"

"Lots of them."

He put her on his back and commenced to sprint through the fields. He danced; there was nothing that brought him more happiness than the goddess he carried.


	4. The Tongue of a Serpent

Commodus was not always bitter. In fact, he used to be one of the kindest souls that Rome ever knew. He loved deeply once, laughed as if there was no worry in all the world. His tongue was sweet and tender, not cold and harsh. This is the story of Commodus and Augusta, and their doomed love that would change him forever.

Chapter Four

_Dearest Augusta,_

_You must believe all that I tell you, for I have no other way of wording it. My father, Marcus Aurelius, doesn't accept you as my bride, nor will he ever. If I bring you to the palace at Rome, my family will only be hostile to you, and I do not want that. We must never see each other again. My father has declared further action if I am to ever meet you in the future. He may even hurt you, and will try to break us apart. But that is not possible. When I ponder about the life we could have spent together, my heart suffers an ache for which there is no cure. I once promised that I would love you and be beside you, if I were to withstand the fires of hell. Yet, fate has forced me to lie to you and contradict myself. I am sorry. I am sorry for everything. If fate had been kinder, I would have been born into a different caste, maybe, but even so, I thank Venus every day for gifting me with such a beauty as you. I am honored to have known you and loved you- as I do and always will. Please keep the amber ring- it was my mother's, and I have given it to you as a token of my endless faith in you, my one and only. You are bound to me, and I to you, and I shall never forget the generosity that you have shown me. Although I have broken all promises, I am keeping one- that I will always protect you. And this last stance, of almost rejecting our union, I'm afraid, is the final piece of protection I can offer. Perhaps, one day, many years after our parting, you will find another man to bring you much happiness._

_You are always in my prayers._

_Love,_

_Commodus_

Commodus was close to crumpling the note in his hand. It was not enough. It was a rash note, written in the hours of anguish the night before. He hadn't slept at all, reciting this letter over and over again to himself, so that Augusta would understand…and hopefully forgive him. For all the lies and deception that he was responsible for.

Yet, he didn't understand his circumstances himself. Still, he had doubts as to if he was doing the right thing or not; he had weighed the consequences numerous times last night- exactly what he would be losing. Augusta. After hours of deep pondering, he couldn't perceive a life without her even if he forced himself to, because that would be the equivalent of losing his own self. But this would be saving her in the long run, wouldn't it? He would be saving her from future treachery, agony, pain.

_But what if she misunderstands? What if she thinks that I'm doing this only for myself?_

Commodus anxiously tugged at his animal skin tunic. He was expecting Augusta to turn up soon. He was in the meadows again. The prince treated every vision of the natural surroundings as if it would be the last time he would ever see them again, and he nearly choked trying to keep his face straight. He gasped uneasily, slowly, for fresh air. Waiting very patiently, he didn't notice the paper pricking his hand.

"My goddess." Commodus crooned, "Do you love me?"

Augusta was alarmed by his sternness. "Yes, of course." She answered, slightly worried herself. "Tell me what is wrong, Commodus." She turned his face towards her, for he was looking away at the moment.

"I love you. Even that is not enough, you are my reason for life. You mean the world to me, in all its entirety and grandeur. Will you still love me, Augusta, if I were to not see you ever again?"

When Augusta did not answer, Commodus continued,

"If I was forbidden to see you, if our marriage and union wouldn't be acknowledged by anyone- not even my father- would you still love me? Please, Augusta…" Commodus pleaded with all of his might, grabbing a hold of her hand as she turned from him.

"Don't turn from me. I need for you to understand. This is probably harder for me than it is for you. My father- he pledged that he would break us apart if I were to keep seeing you. If you come to Rome, you will not be welcomed, and Augusta, you know that I wish happiness for you! You will not be happy with me anymore! And I am sorry, a thousand times, for I wanted so much to bring you happiness…"

"You lied to me."

These words froze his blood. _What have I done! _

"Augusta, please."

"Stop it, Commodus." Augusta was slipping right through his fingers, and he couldn't keep it from happening. His insides tore, and he felt extremely sick.

But then, almost beyond his control and placid temperament, a demon was born.

"All right, then. I suppose if you really must know the truth, it wouldn't do any good to hide it much longer. Yes, I have lied to you, and I'm not afraid to admit it! All the times I caressed you, comforted you, I never meant it." He hissed raucously.

Augusta was backing away from him completely now, but remained speechless. If she felt any sting from his words, she didn't show it. But her once luminous eyes had lost their shine. It finally began to sink in, that he had gone further than pain, than agony, than mere sorrow. She looked as if she had suffered several years of toil- she was bitter, indifferent, nonchalant. As she walked back, she didn't look back.

Commodus, stupefied by his own actions, helplessly whimpered. No one would comfort him now. The letter was a pile of shreds below his feet. Some things he just couldn't fix. He had gone too far, and she would never know the truth.


End file.
